In The Garden Of Good And Evil
by Siren's Dark Song
Summary: World War III. A time of death and distruction. Only a few make it. Those that do, are in for the fight of not only their lives, but for the salvation of the world.... SessKag


-1Disclaimer: I don't own them, or make any money. I just like to put them in crazy situations. I do own my story idea and I do own the OC's in this story.

A.N. Okay, I am putting this chapter here on Why? Well, I think Silent Death can put it here on this site. I might get it booted. I hope not. But what the hell. Yes, I am known as Siren here, but in most sites I am known as either Beautiful Silent Death or Silent Death. But I will refer myself mostly as Death. I hope you all will like this chapter. I am still working on the second one. I have a lot of OC characters in this story, but it will be a Sess/Kag. I don't know if I will add all of the Inu gang. Probably not. But I think it will be okay. Tell me what you all think so far! Enjoy!

World War III.

They had told the world, that everything within the five nation's powers, would do what they possibly could to resolve the current problem peacefully. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

No one can quite remember who fired the first nuclear bomb. They just remember the chain reaction that followed.

In America, all the great cities, land marks, anything of importance…gone. Millions lost their lives. It was the same in other countries. Nothing but ruined rubble, death and despair. Those that died in the beginning were the lucky ones.

What the vast explosions, and immediate destruction, didn't kill, the horrid amount of nuclear radiation, spreading across the land and seeping into the water, finished off even more. Those deaths were painful and drawn out, leaving people that finally died, grateful and welcoming for the eternal rest.

The huge amounts of radiation, that didn't destroy, altered things. What animals lived became bigger, changed in color, some even grew extra appendages. The plants and trees were the same. Nothing looked as it once was before the war.

The earth seemed to have remolded, and with it, the remaining human population.

A pretty woman, in her early twenties, picked her way through the twisted roots that made mismatched designs across the forest floor. Light barley filtered through the twisted red leaves of the giant branches that reached far above her.

She rested her pale hand on top of her swollen belly. In the back of her mind, she could hear the faint whispers of the lost souls following her. The only companions she has left.

A contraction caused her to grasp onto a barkless trunk and double over. "Unnn…"

A figure appeared before her. Concern plainly visible on his face, as he bent lower. His movement, jerky, unnatural, causing his shape to distort and reform. He has black shoulder length hair and a handsome face.

The panting pregnant woman shifted her all white eyes up, peering at the ghost through a pained gaze. "Baby, I don't think I can do this."

"Yes," the spirit softly spoke. "Y-you can, Wren."

A strangled sob escaped her once the tightening left. Sweat covered her body and matted the short dark hair that covered her head. "But it hurts so bad. Why did you have to die, Paul! I cant do this without you!"

Wren crouched down and leaned into a crevice the white and red tree had. The past two weeks had been very difficult. "I have to rest." She tiredly shifted until the pressure in her lower back lessened.

Paul moved about, checking to make sure nothing threatened his still living love and unborn child. The quick movements make his form wavy, and sometimes disappear for a few seconds, only to reappear again.

Wren briefly rested her eyes. The soft whispers lowered more in her mind. She is used to them. They have been with her for four years now. They will never leave her either. They are all around her. The voices of the dead.

Wren and Paul met after World War 111. There weren't many left living. Most died during or shortly after the war.

The young couple, both eighteen at the time, was in what used to be the state of Ohio. They had lost everything. No family, friends, pets, all was gone.

Paul helped Wren keep what sanity she had left, intact. They both needed to keep their heads straight if they wanted any hope of surviving.

The first year together had been very trying. What hadn't been reduced to rubble, they ram-sacked. Both knew that eating anything from the earth, or drinking the open water, meant greater chances of further radiating themselves. It worked, at first, but soon they had no choice but to eat what they could.

After the second year of being together, traveling to find a better place to live, did they notice the beginnings of changes.

The trees were the first to undergo these alterations. Most, instead of what a normal tree would look like, started loosing their brown, rugged bark and revealed a smooth whitish trunk. Branches began to twist, showing a curvy design, and bright red leaves replaced the deep green ones.

Grass also took a reddish-white tent, and they became softer, thicker in texture. It seemed what was once green, now bore red or white colors.

Shortly after, they came upon an abandoned farm. Some animals still remained there. One being a horse. At first, Wren thought someone had cruelly thrown some kind of blue paint on its pretty white coat, but after Paul finally caught the spirited mare, she noticed this wasn't the case.

The horse's once brown eyes, now had blotches of light gold in them, and the blue globes and streaks was actually her real hair slowly replacing the white.

Besides the animal being a little thin, and not handled in awhile, Wren got Paul to go into the dirty and damaged barn to find some gear. It seemed she had grown attached to her in the short time of handling her and a horse could do them some good. Cars were no use to them. What made it through war, ran out of gas. No gas stations, no gas. No gas, no car. They were of no use to them. So, a horse it is. But Paul would do anything for her anyway. If she wanted the horse, she would get it.

Wren loved her animal friend very much. Over some time of owning the mare, she turned completely blue, save two white socks, and her eyes a startling deep gold.

They started heading more south after the first winter. The effects of the environment were terrible. The winter storms caused tornadoes and other hellish things of nature. They almost didn't make it.

Paul, at first unable to understand his growing abilities, demanded that they travel off the main road. Wren wondered why and often voiced that it would make traveling much easier for them if they stayed on the marked roads. Sometimes, the paths they ventured made their horse slip. After a close call with some looters, Paul just said it was to keep them safe.

One night, Paul awoke in a cold sweat and called out in actual fright. It startled Wren awake and she asked him what was wrong. He explained that in his dream, something was coming for them that they needed to get to the far south as quick as they could.

Wren didn't know what to make of it, at first, but the fear in his eyes make her get up and help them pack the horse. That night, they left, traveling as far as they could.

He wouldn't tell her much more about the awful dream he had, or why they had to leave right then and there, but she, herself, started to get frightening warnings.

Two weeks later, Wren started hearing things. At first, it sounded like people were whispering in the background. It wasn't constant, but it scared her. She didn't tell Paul right away. The fear that perhaps her sanity had finally slipped entered her mind on more then one occasion. But that changed one evening.

Paul started a fire to cook a fish that he had caught. Due to the war, the fish had grown huge. One fed them easily. Wren sat near the fire, trying to stay warm in the early autumn night. They were both quiet, taking in the comfortable silence around them.

The voices had been quiet for some time. Wren was grateful for that. No human sounds meant no fear of losing her mind. That changed though.

Suddenly, a figure formed in front of her, reminding her of something seen out of a horror movie. A tall, pale, man stood in front of her with short brown hair and a look of terror on his middle-aged face. Every time he moved, his figure would jerk and distort.

Wren had never felt fear so deep in her life. All she could do is sit where she was and stare wide eyed at the spirit. She couldn't even work her mouth to try to call out to Paul.

With a movement that almost made him disappear, his face stopped just inches from hers and he whispered one word. "Beware."

Voices flooded her head after that, all crying to her, all screaming for her to leave. She found her scream joining theirs.

Paul jumped up form his side of the fire, and grabbed hold of her shoulder, shaking her. Wren was shaking her head, franticly, side to side. He grabbed her head between his large hands and held her still. What he saw next frightened him.

Once brilliant blue eyes, that he had grown to love, faded to all white right before him. At first, he thought that radiation had finally gotten to her, leaving her permanently blind, but he soon realized that she could still see. Just now, she saw much more then before.

Over the weeks, after Wren got over her fear of them, she found that the creepy ghosts meant her no harm. They seemed to show up whenever they felt and she got used to that. One time, a woman showed up when she was going to the bathroom. To say it embarrassing was an understatement. Another time, a man appeared before her when she bathed in a pond. Paul came running when she started to curse and scream at the thin air.

Paul got used to her talking to things he couldn't see. He couldn't say anything about it. He, himself, still had dreams about the near future. His premonitions were enough to keep him busy as it was. They were disturbing and all he knew was that somewhere down south they would be safe.

Wren and Paul, along with their blue horse, traveled on. It was hard. Paul still insisted they stay away from roads and any form of towns. Now that Wren received her form of messages, she didn't argue about it anymore.

They finally made it to Georgia. The only way they found that out was because of a lonely county road sign. It was winter then, but not near as bad as it had been back up north.

The dreams seemed to stop coming to Paul and Wren told him a little girl said there was a small town that resided 'good people'. After being on the run from some unknown evil, it sounded nice to just stop for awhile, actually talk to people that didn't want to slit your throat or take your things.

He almost took that back when they came to the tiny town.

The whole place was surrounded by tall fencing with nasty looking barbed wire lining the top. Two men stood at the front, the only way in and out, with large shot guns in their hands.

Wren kept her hand tightly entwined in his as one of the guards approached them. After being questioned, one of the men called up on a kindly old man. His name was Totosai and he helped run things in the small community . But after taking one look at Wren, the elderly man ushered them quickly past the gates and brought them into his home.

It was then that they found out what the evil they ran from was. A young man, that can perform miracles, is gathering followers. He claims to be the Second Coming, the one the Creator has blessed them with. He said that he is here to save them all. His name is Naraku Cane Smith.

Totosai, also gifted with a form of foresight, saw through his deception. The followers, no more then slaves. If one ventures away from him, then they become ill or disfigured again. Currently, he is traveling the north. That explained why Paul and Wren were so strongly warned to leave.

The old man then pinned Wren with an intense stare. "You are the Seer. From you, there will be a daughter that will help save the world, while standing beside Life, Death, Destruction, and the Metal Warrior."

That always confused her, but he wouldn't explain more. With a kind smile, he gave them a place to stay and for the next year and a half, they called the tiny place home.

Another contraction wracked through her slender frame. Wren squeezed her eyes shut, as tears ran down her face, mixing with the beads of sweat all ready there.

Home.

It felt like home. Her and Paul made friends there, had a cute little house. They didn't have electricity, but one of the residents there had designed a solar battery to work the fans. As long as you charged them, there was at least some sort of air flow for the hot summer days. They also had fire places and outdoor grills to cook on. A couple of guys even came over and built a pin so they had a place to keep their horse.

Then, when life seemed good, it got even better. Paul and Wren were expecting. They were worried, as well. What if their exposure to the radiation made her still born or deformed? It was a scary thought, but Totosai ensured them that all would be well.

All was well, until two weeks ago. Wren, heavy in her eight month, awoke with a woman standing next to her bed. "You mu-ust leave! He is here-e!"

Wren heard other cries in her head, all telling her to leave. At that moment, Paul shot up and grabbed his head, sweat causing his clothes and hair to stick to his body. "He's coming!" He gasped. "Naraku is coming!"

Gunshots were heard off in the dark and they scrambled out of bed, pulling on clothes. When Paul and Wren finally made it outside, people were running, trying to get out of the fenced in community. Some people had wire cutters, making slow progress. Others braved the barbed wire, slashing themselves, causing blood to drip down the chain fencing. More gunshots and screaming could be heard and Wren grabbed onto Paul's arm.

"What is happening?" She had tears in her eyes as they moved back against the house, not wanting to get hit by a stray bullet.

"Naraku." Paul's voice was soft, like he feared saying it any louder.

"Paul! Wren!" Shouted an old scratchy voice.

"Mr. Totosai!" Wren gasped. The side of his head was bleeding and some ran down the side of his shirt. "Are you okay? Your bleeding!"

Totosai's frantic eyes softened when he heard her worried tone. He gazed up into her colorless orbs and placed a wrinkled, callused, hand on her soft cheek. "Dear child. You need not worry about me. It is you that needs to be taken to safety."

A bullet rammed into someone, causing a scream of pain to join the others calling out into the night.

"Come with us." Wren begged, grabbing hold of his hand, pressing it more into her face. He had been so kind to them.

The old man smiled. The kind of smile that told one he had made his mind up about something. "Listen to me," he glanced at Paul, silently telling him this was meant of him, as well. "The road for you both will be very difficult. You must keep your child safe. She will be a key player in saving this world."

Suddenly, they heard a smooth and beautiful voice. They peeked around the edge of the house and saw, for the first time, their enemy. Naraku.

People ran for their lives, tripping over each other to put space between them and the so called 'Savior', getting gunned down in the process.

Naraku walked in the middle of ten men. They all carried guns, shooting people on sight. Even if they did listen to his hypnotic voice, they would get murdered by his men, anyways.

To Paul and Totosai, he appeared to be a tall, handsome man with long, wavy, black hair. His eyes, an unusual color, were red, but could have been cause by the radiation. Wren, though, saw through his beautiful shell and straight to his dark interior. Naraku oozed of darkness. His aura, dulled instead of shiny, faded from red to black. Even his clothing consisted of dark colors, adding to his disturbing appearance.

What bothered Wren the most, had been the ghosts that seemed to follow him. They dragged themselves after him, with looks of despair and loss etched onto their faces. It was apparent that they didn't want to be near him, but looked as though they had no choice.

Wren choked on a sob as she saw this. It broke her heart that, even in death, they were bound to this dark beast. "Oh, God no…"

She wished she hadn't spoken, because at that moment, the chained spirits started to notice her. Sorrowful cries filled the area, mixing in with the living cries of horror. They were trying to warn her away. Unfortunately, that drew Naraku's attention.

A malicious smile crossed his lips and pinned his red gaze to her all white one. "Well, you are… different."

At that point, Paul decided that it was a really good time to leave. He grabbed hold of Wren and turned to Totosai. "Watch Wren while I get the horse…"

"No time!" Totosai cut him off. "Leave the mare. You wont be able to take her trough the fence."

Wren was really reluctant about doing that. The had her almost four years, but Paul heeded his advise and pulled her way from the side of the house, and through the back, towards the tall chain link fence.

Totosai found a hole already cut and started to help Wren though. Once she was safely on the other side, he pulled it back some more so Paul could work his way out.

Paul was almost through when a gun shot echoed out. Then he heard Totosai whimper in pain and the part of the fence that he was holding back slipped from his grasp, embedding it's metal deep into his flesh.

Wren turned when she heard the shot and watched as Totosai clasped to the ground. Then Paul cried out in pain and she rushed to his side. At first, she feared a bullet got him. There was a good deal of blood running from his side, but then he motioned to the fence and she helped him get free. Paul turned back to help the old man, but Totosai stopped him. "My time has come. Go! Get away from here!"

Paul hesitated, but finally helped Wren up and they took off into the woods. They stood out against the white and red trees, but it was still night out, so the darkness helped. Not even a full mile away, loud booms filled the quiet evening. Wren held onto Paul's uninjured side and cried. Their home, things, horse, friends,…everything, gone. With her so far along, what were they going to do?

Paul and Wren traveled as far as they could that night. They needed as much distance between them and Naraku. Finally, Wren announced that she could travel no more. They had to rest.

Paul didn't sleep. He stayed awake, watching over her as she slept. He had too much on his mind. One thing he needed to do was find a safe haven for Wren. A necessary he cant over look.

By the next evening, Paul collapsed in front of Wren. She rushed to him only to find him very pale. She remembered the deep ash in his side, but couldn't remember if he tended to it or not. She lifted the shirt up and gagged at the smell. Deep red surrounded the wound and puss was starting to form in it. Its almost been two days and he hadn't once cleaned it. Now he had gotten blood poisoning.

Wren had spotted a small stream about a quarter of a mile back. She needed to clean it, and fast, but she had nothing to carry it to him. She had to get him up. After some time of getting him conscious, Wren helped Paul, the best she could, back to the stream. Once there, she cleaned it the best she could, flinching every time she had to dig dirt and infection out of every visible area. It worried her. They had no resources to sanitize it, nor did they have any antibiotics on them.

Wren sat back and rested. What the hell is she going to do now?

Paul awoke the next morning, not looking any better, but insisted on finding her food and traveling some more. Wren could tell that Paul was getting worse, but he wouldn't let her clean his cut anymore. They traveled four more days until he became too sick to go on anymore.

That night, Wren lay next to him, holding him because he had a fever and his body violently shook from chills. He painfully turned to her and lightly kissed her on the forehead. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes," she answered, running her hand down his pale, sweaty cheek. His skin felt like fire. "I love you, too."

Paul gave her a heart stopping smile. "Remember that I will always be with you. No matter what happens. Remember, okay?"

"I will, Paul. I will."

They fell asleep after that, holding each other, taking comfort from each other. When the sun came up the next day, Wren woke up, but Paul didn't.

He died.

She sat there beside him the rest of the day and sobbed. She didn't care that flies were starting to gather, or that his smelly infection filled the air with its rotting smell, she just wanted to lie next to him and sleep with him. That evening, she buried him under stones and slept the rest of the night. When the morning came, so did Paul, but not in living form.

At first, Wren cried. She could never touch him, feel him, or make love to him under the stars anymore. Then, she got pissed. Wren yelled at him, called him names for getting so sick and dieing on her, and to Paul's great amusement, threw rocks at him, only to have them pass right through him.

When Wren finally calmed down, he helped her find food, because she neglected to eat, and encouraged her to start traveling again. Wren would ask him where they were heading, but he would just say, "The hills."

They continued on this way until this morning, when the contractions started and supposedly two more miles to go. Two more miles. Like this. Oh, may the great Creator spare her.

Paul suddenly appeared in front of her again just as another contraction caused her to lose her breath. "We have to-o go aga-ain."

"Oh, shut up!" Wren bit out through clenched teeth. "Damn ghost. Sound like a skipping CD."

Paul just chuckled and waited for her to rise again.

Wren didn't know how she did it, but she finally made it the next two miles, having to stop every now and then because of contractions.

"Hu-urry!" Paul urged. "The ho-ouse is almost in sight."

Sure enough, when Wren passed by the last of the white tree trunks, there sat a small cottage. The small house looked abandoned, but in good shape. It reminded her of some of those paintings that they used to sell in the religious stores before the war. A small stream tinkled beside it, providing fresh water from the mountains that rested behind the house a few more miles back.

Another contraction washed over her, causing her to fall to her knees in pain. Time to get inside.

Wren hurried to the front door. To her relief, it opened right up. She didn't think she could brake down anything in her condition. The house lacked anything electric related, but that is okay. Because of the war, there isn't anything that ran on electricity. What she needed to do right now, is clean an area up and get some water boiling in the fire place. After finding a pan, she made her way to the small stream. The contraction weren't that close together, yet, so she has some time on her hands.

Paul materialized beside her. Wren gave him a wry smile as she bent down to get some water. "How did you find this place?"

Doing a jerky version of a shrug, he said, "The person who us-sed to live here to-old me about it."

Wren didn't know if she wanted to know more about it after that. These people could have been killed by the war, or by radiation, or by some people looking to do harm. Either way, she just let it rest for now. Shakily rising back up, she quickly makes her way back into the house. Another contraction hit her and she waited it out. When she could move again, Wren got a fire going and shook the dust from some blankets lying in a closet.

After she finished setting up a small area, and finding scissors and other things she could think of at that time, her water broke. It only provided with temporary relief. At that time, she sighed at less pressure and pain. Unfortunately, the contractions started getting stronger and closer together.

Paul stayed near her, wishing he could do more to help. Instead, he spoke soothing words and encouraged her all the way through the birthing process. Wren, trying her best on concentrating with what she should be, couldn't ignore the voices in her head. The dead's whisperings grew louder, but no in horror. They were chanting, softly calling out their joy in what was happening. "She comes! The one that will help save us comes…" Pushing it from her mind, she screamed when her hips started to move to allow passage for her baby.

"Th-hats right, baby! Push!" Paul could see the head just starting to crown. Even though his life was over, to watch the beginning of a new one felt as if he were still alive.

With one final screech, and an almighty push, Wren felt the baby clear her body. She flopped back and took a deep breath before painfully sitting up and grabbing the slippery and bloody infant. As soon as she did, the little person let out a tiny wail.

Paul smiled at his baby. "Is it a g-girl, like Totosai said?"

Wren grabbed an elastic tie and secured it around the umbilical cored before she cut it. "Yes," she lovingly said. She then cleaned and wrapped her up before she tended to herself.

An hour later, Wren nestled down on the bedding she made, finally able to feed and really look at the tiny baby. "She is beautiful."

"Ye-es she is." Paul agreed. She had all ten fingers and toes. Perfect in his book. Wren took in the black fuzz on her head and then moved down to see what color her eyes were. She gasped at what she saw. "Paul! She has my eyes!"

Paul frowned, but shrugged. "Sh-he is still perfe-ect. Now she is spe-ecial, as well."

Wren rubbed a finger lightly across her small chubby cheek as the baby suckled. "Kagome," she whispered.

"Paul didn't quite hear her. "What?"

"Kagome. We will call her Kagome." She repeated, this time louder.

Paul smiled. That was the name of his grandmother. Wren always liked it. "A b-beautiful name for a beautiful g-girl."


End file.
